


Test Subject

by Nununununu



Series: Nununununu's Kinktober 2019 fics [5]
Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Background Relationships, Bondage, Consensual, Crack Treated Seriously, Day 4, Developing Friendships, Don't copy to another site, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Femdom, For Science!, Fucking Machines, Helping your former colleague out for science and money, Kinktober 2019, Manhandling, Medical Examination, Not Cheating, Olivia Octavius/May Parker - Freeform, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rare Pairings, Restraints, Sex Toys, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 03:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20885279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: A few years after the movie's end, Aaron's out of hospital and prison - and hospital again - and is in need of employment. Encouraged by her partner May, Liv's branched out into making a successful range of sex toys she's seeking to expand. These two facts are not disconnected.





	Test Subject

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4: Olivia Octavius/Aaron Davis (Fucking Chair, Distant/Distracted Sex + Femdom #1).
> 
> AU canon divergence in that Aaron survived. The romantic pairing here is established Liv / May (fic doesn't involve infidelity). Prequel for them here [Repair, Rebuild](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20962820). 
> 
> Trigger warning: overall consensual smut, but moments of dubcon. A bit of a dubious set up given Aaron signed up for the tests due to needing the money, but he nonetheless finds himself entirely Up For It.

When Aaron swore from his hospital bed to do better for his nephew’s sake, this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.

Scratch that, it wasn’t what he had in mind _at all_.

Still it’s not as if there are a whole lot of options for an ex-villain – or probably most people in his situation really, not after a bout in hospital and then prison and then hospital _again_ – and he’s not about to accept money from his brother _or_ Miles, whatever either more or less obliquely suggests. So what if the funds he built up over the years have vanished, the little of it left to him after his sentencing barely enough to cover the rent. Seriously, Aaron would have preferred the landlord kick his crap to the curb rather than have Miles box it up and stash it at his parents’ house as the kid kept offering, but Miles’ genuine horror when Aaron suggested hawking the lot of it had been enough to tip him over into compromise: keep the stuff but in the apartment and _not_ stacked up in Miles’ bedroom, however okay with it Miles had kept claiming he’d be. Even if the kid did sleep at school, Aaron still wasn't about to put him through that.

So anyway, Aaron’s still got a roof over his head now he’s free, but he’s also only got a handful of dollars left to his name as a result.

He's not about to admit to anyone just how very small that handful is. Aaron may be out of a job, out of prospects and near as hell out of luck, but he’s got his health back just about, along with a goddamn stellar nephew, a brother who is way too forgiving, and a sister-in-law who never fails to be both supportive and tell him her mind – and he’s damn well still got his pride.

Although, considering what he’s signed himself up for here, that last part may change.

Rapping his knuckles on the open door to the only lit room in the depths of the otherwise abandoned building, Aaron raises a dubious eyebrow at the _Chair_ displayed prominently within.

“Can I blame my decision on the drugs and back out without you telling anyone or holding it over me forever?” He suggests, only half joking, “They had me on the good stuff back when you visited.”

‘Visited’ is one word for it: the woman he’s speaking to had wrenched open the window to his most recent hospital room in the dead of night and near given Aaron a heart attack, although he’s not about to tell her that.

“I’ve got the consent form with your signature on it right here,” Octavius doesn’t turn to face him, her attention focused on whatever she’s tinkering with on a crowded table to one side of her improvised lab, but one of her tentacle-hands picks up a piece of paper from an equally crowded shelf and waves it at him.

“Yeah, I see it,” That same eyebrow twitching this time, Aaron endeavours not to think of Octavius’ soft robotic limbs as ‘tentacles’ again. Seeing as he never succeeded in this aim back when they were colleagues, it’s probably a doomed attempt.

“Woman up, Davis, and strip off,” Octavius glances over her shoulder at him. Although her additional limbs look even further advanced and yet more hand-like than before, she’s otherwise the same as she’s always been, as long as Aaron has known her: masses of hair everywhere, glasses wrapped with tape to keep them together, god knows how many prints clouding the lenses. A smudge of machine oil or something on her chin, her fingers stained with unidentified chemicals, ink splattered on the cuffs of her lab coat and a mug of ridiculously strong black coffee glued to one hand. She gestures with the mug at him and then over at a plastic tub perched on top of a perilous tower of random office furniture pushed to the corner of the room, “Use that if you want somewhere to put your clothes.” Looking at her watch, she jabs a few buttons on her computer, “Time’s wasting. I’m not paying you to just stand there.”

Jesus, her desktop is just as cluttered as Aaron remembers it being back in her original lab. He’d popped in there occasionally on the odd errand, sent by the boss, and had sometimes ended up hanging around for a couple of minutes after, kind of interested despite himself in whatever experiments she had going on. Although Octavius had initially tutted and huffed, she hadn’t commented other than to vow to kill him if he touched anything.

It had been strangely peaceful in a way, watching her potter about and talk to herself as she worked. And it had beat spending time with Tombstone or any of the others, anyway.

“Why’d you need my help again anyway?” Rather than thinking about what precisely he’s going to end up doing – involving the Chair in the centre of the room – Aaron raises his hands to the top button of his shirt and undoes the collar. Refusing to think about the fact he’s undressing in front of this woman he barely knows beyond the fact they’ve fought together and not tried to kill each other, which is at least pretty much more than Aaron can say for anyone else he’s ever worked with.

He also tries not to notice how her attention settles on him, her gaze distantly curious – checking he’s doing as instructed – but predominantly clinical.

“There were no suitable respondents to the ad I placed online,” Shrugging, Octavius takes a sip of her coffee. Her tone is so prosaic Aaron has no means of discerning if she’s joking, although he wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the truth.

Planting her ass on the edge of the table, Octavius watches him continue to undress. Aaron can’t help but imagine it’s a bit like how a bug must feel when it’s examined under a microscope. He sets his shirt aside in the plastic tub, internally rolling his eyes at his ruffled ego when Octavius doesn’t react to the sight of him bare chested in the slightest except to drum her fingers impatiently on her folded arms. It’s not as if Aaron ever expected her to be interested – or wants her to be – and it’s not as if he’s interested in her, although he probably wouldn’t say no if it came down to it.

In honesty, he probably wouldn’t say no to most people. It’s just – been a long time since he got any kind of action, that’s all. Miles is as prone to making unexpected appearances as ever and, while Aaron is always happy to see the kid and is never going to turn him away, it’s not exactly conducive when it comes to getting laid.

“My partner suggested I look up previous acquaintances,” Octavius says as Aaron undoes his belt.

“Hm?” He glances up at her, tugging the zipper down at the same time as he kicks off his boots, “He didn’t want to test your, ah, machine? Or, uh –”

Shit, there's a presumption there and one he really should have known better than to make.

“_She_ isn't going to test this 'machine' because it's intended for men,” Sure enough, Octavius replies pointedly. She goes to drink more coffee and grimaces on finding her mug empty, “Now get on with it, Davis –”

“Yeah yeah,” Aaron’s already stepping out of his trousers and shoving them into the plastic tub, grinning crookedly when his complicity makes Octavius grumble but subside. He pauses with his thumb hooked over the waistband to his shorts, “Everything off?”

“While I’ll be using sensors built into the chair to collect data, it will be necessary for me to observe,” Octavius sniffs, “If you’ve chosen to suddenly become bashful –”

“Nah, just wondering what your partner makes of all this,” Chuckling, Aaron settles on being just as prosaic as Octavius about what's happening – or as much as he can manage, anyway. So here he is, in a junk-filled abandoned office turned improvised lab, shimmying out of his shorts in preparation for getting off in front of Octavius as part of some experiment she’s running –

Which is a really weird setup, but deep down kind of arousing in a way Aaron absolutely is _not_ going to examine.

He’s just helping out a former colleague test out some equipment, that’s all it is really, and Octavius is going to pay him damn well for it too. As dopey as he might have been on the drugs at the hospital that second time – having been shanked in the side in prison by some punk kid he was trying to defend, damn it – Aaron had been certain to make sure of that much before he signed.

And anyway, it’s not as if he’s got tons of other job offers rolling in.

“Finally,” Octavius sighs when he’s done. She doesn’t even glance down at the assets now on display, a tentacle-hand reaching back up to the shelf to select a box of –

Latex gloves. Oh, okay.

“You’re going to be – touching me?” Aaron’s cock likes the thought of this – regardless who the hands doing the touching belong to – far more than it should.

“I don’t trust you to tell me honestly and it would be difficult to get measurements otherwise,” Adjusting her glasses absently, Octavius pulls on one of the gloves. Then she looks at him – at his face, not his dick – and snaps a tentacle-hand, a smirk deepening a line to one side of her mouth. “Unless you want me to use these?”

“Ah no, no that’s okay, hands are fine,” Certain Octavius sees straight through his attempt to play it cool, Aaron says hastily on behalf of his cock.

Although –

He glances unbidden at the four tentacle-hands, each undulating independently of each other not far from his body. His brain chooses now to remind him of the precision Octavius has over them, the utter control, and her ability to use them for surprisingly delicate and complex tasks, and –

And yeah, not going there. _Really_ not going there.

Whatever she sees in his expression makes Octavius snicker. “Right, get over here.”

A tentacle-hand abruptly grabs Aaron, closing over his shoulder and nudging him forcefully enough towards the table that he has to catch himself so not to stumble.

“Hey!” He’s intently aware of the feel of it – soft and flexible, although he has no idea of the material it's made from; they've never had reason to speak of such things. The words lodge in his throat now, even as it occurs to him that, come to think of it, he also has no idea how Octavius herself refers to her ‘tentacle-hands’.

And yeah, he failed pretty quickly in the attempt to call them as something else, didn’t he.

“Hurry up and come here,” Octavius is pulling out a couple of things from a drawer in the table. Measuring equipment.

“Ah –” Catching a glimpse, Aaron promptly casts his gaze up towards the ceiling. Because – 

Because damn it, his cock is getting way too into this.

“I need to take measurements _flaccid_ first,” Octavius says a bit tartly, and –

“Sure, sure,” Aaron lets out a slow breath and gets to thinking of whatever horrifying thoughts he can summon up to help deal with the – problem he’s got going on.

Thinking of the Scorpion and Tombstone macking on each other kind of does the trick. There are many, many worse things he could be thinking of – his clawed hand around Miles’ throat, fuck no, oh _god_ – but there’s a limit to how vulnerable Aaron wants to be in front of Octavius.

Standing naked and half-hard in front of her is one thing, but becoming _emotional_? Hell no.

Okay, imagining the Kingpin getting in on the Tombstone / Scorpion scenario is off-putting enough that Aaron only jumps a little when Octavius moves close enough for him to feel her body heat, the tentacle-hand on his shoulder pressing harder as if to hold Aaron in place.

Tugging on the second latex glove, Octavius releases it with a snap.

“_Uh_ –” Aaron’s cock jumps alongside the rest of his body. Shit. _Focus_, Davis –

Right. Gross thoughts; gross thoughts. That time Miles threw up all over Aaron and then pooped in the bath, back when the kid was three. Actually, Miles did that more than once. That time – back when Aaron himself was a kid – that Jefferson decided to show his affection by waking Aaron up in the morning by farting in his face.

Aaron betraying his entire family for completely fucking dumb reasons. Yeah, that was gross.

“Better,” Octavius states, and Aaron stifles a tiny noise, holding very still, his gaze still scanning the ceiling as he feels her first lift and then measure his now limp cock.

Her gloved fingers make little contact, the touch entirely dispassionate, but Aaron’s belly still tenses despite himself all the same. He feels her doing – something – to his balls, shortly followed by a tentacle-hand butting at the back of his knees –

Arousal leaps back into his throat, _damn it_.

Widening his stance as prompted, Aaron swallows thickly, sending his mind off drifting again. It’s easy to think of it just as a doctor’s check-up when Octavius starts manipulating his balls, clearly testing for anything unexpected, pausing occasionally to note down her findings on the computer.

“Okay, I just need to do a couple more checks and then I’ll need to measure _this_ again, but erect,” Pulling a pen out of her nest of hair, Octavius taps it lightly against the head of Aaron’s cock.

“Gah –” He just about leaps out of his skin, the brief impact getting him just about as bad as a punch to the gut, “_Fuck_ –” 

Octavius raises her eyebrow at him higher this time. “Do you have a problem with that, Davis?”

“Uh,” Aaron does have a problem. His problem is that he really, _really_ wants to ask her to do that _again_, all of the arousal he’d worked so hard to quell abruptly coming flooding back.

Fuck, his heart’s racing and that was nothing. Just –

It just caught him off guard. That’s all.

“No, no, that’s – that’s fine.” Yeah, she needs to measure his erection? Aaron’s cool with that.

He’s also strongly tempted to watch this time.

“Not yet,” Octavius rolls her eyes. She gestures impatiently at the table, “Get rid of some of that –” ‘That’ being all her piles of papers and assorted science stuff, “Lean over and prop your elbows on the table. I need to do an internal examination.”

“You mean –” Aaron’s own eyebrows just about climb off his forehead, he raises them so high.

“Ugh, why are men so _slow_,” Octavius abruptly launches into action, a tentacle-limb simply thrusting in amongst all the clutter and pushing it aside, several items clattering onto the floor as the tentacle-hand on Aaron’s shoulder shoves him down onto the table.

“_Oof_ –” Aaron braces himself against the edge, instinctively tempted to resist. He might be less capable of bouncing around like he could before he was shot and then stabbed, but he’s still got it – with the right angle and a bit of exertion, it probably wouldn’t be difficult to do enough damage to those robotics to disable them enough to get away.

Or so he tells himself.

Because that’s if Aaron _wanted_ to get away, which is kind of a grey area right now. Because unlike his ego, his body has no problem _whatsoever_ with the rough treatment – his cock surges under him at the push, only getting harder when that tentacle-hand is joined by a second, the pair working together to bend him over while a third knocks his legs open again.

“_Nghhh –_” Oh god.

This isn’t one of the hottest things that’s ever happened to him. It’s totally not.

“I don’t know what you’re making such a fuss about,” Octavius produces a giant bottle of lube, “Here, I even remembered using this would be beneficial.” A beat, “Well, May did.”

“What the fuck,” Aaron can only laugh. Relaxing, he sags a bit, slumping down on the table regardless of the fact it means he's basically displaying his ass. He has to comment, “Thought you got access to my medical history at the hospital.” 

Octavius snorts, “Your records were easy enough to hack, but you can’t expect me not to verify.” As if to illustrate this, she pokes the scar on his side briefly, muttering something under her breath.

“Yeah okay, fair enough,” Repressing the urge to turn around to see her, Aaron hears her lab coat rustle as she moves behind him, placing her free hand absently on his hip.

His cock twitches a little at the contact and, safe in the knowledge she can’t see his face, he bites his lip. This is only going to get worse, isn’t it.

For a given definition of ‘worse’.

“Relax or I _will_ use these to check your prostate, and you won’t thank me for it,” Octavius thrusts a tentacle-hand in front of Aaron’s nose so he can get a good look at it, right as she slides two slick fingers into his ass, a steadily inexorable push that makes a groan all but rattle his chest.

“Oh_ fuck,_” Aaron’s not had anything in there for a long time, longer than he likes to admit. He might have done a bit of experimenting in his youth, might be as much of a man’s man as he is a ladies’ man – because, hey, equal opportunities are all for the good – but still.

But still. His prostate feels so fucking sensitive when Octavius’ fingers find it that he practically shouts.

Her answer is to growl, “_Calm down_.”

“Ugh, y-yeah –” Aaron latches onto the irritation in her voice. Because yeah. This isn’t sexy.

It’s _not_ sexy – Octavius does much as a medic would do, but with less gentleness, and Aaron can only be grateful for the generous application of lube as she makes no effort to give him time to adjust to the feel of her poking and prodding away in there.

It’s not sexy, but –

But.

“Okay, everything seems as it should be, so tests are safe to proceed with,” Octavius says seemingly to herself as she pulls out without warning – Aaron chokes on his tongue a bit – and whips the gloves off, tossing them into a bin before turning to tap at her computer again. 

“Would you have carried on anyway if they weren’t?” For all he’s grateful to have her attention off him for a moment, he can’t help but ask.

“Hm?” Octavius glances over the top of her glasses at him, that smirk appearing back on her face again, “Are you implying you would have wanted me to?”

“I –” Yeah, Aaron’s not going to answer that one. He very much doesn’t look over at the Chair.

“May wouldn't forgive me if I ended up hurting someone while experimenting on them,” Octavius looks both pleased and indignant at once. She shoots a look down at his cock, snorts, and scoops up the measuring equipment again with a couple of the tentacle-hands. “So – I was going to ask if you needed a moment, but clearly not.”

“Uh –” Damn it, Aaron’s _never_ usually this bad with his words; she’s had him wrong-footed from the start. He can only be relieved when Octavius looks away from his cock, fully erect and heavy between his legs as it is.

“The reason you’re in such a state doesn’t matter; only that it’s necessary,” Octavius shrugs, perhaps taking pity on him.

She doesn’t use her hands to take the measurements this time.

“Y-yeah,” Aaron’s agreement is a bit faint. He’s busy holding himself very, very still as the tentacle-hands manipulate his erection as needed, feeling it twitch at each touch, highly conscious that Octavius' attention is on inputting whatever information the things are feeding her onto the computer.

She isn’t paying him any attention whatsoever. The knowledge of this makes his skin prickle, makes him struggle to swallow.

“To answer your earlier question about May’s feelings on all this, she was the one to suggest I branch out and include men in this particular business endeavour,” Octavius remarks distractedly, once she and the tentacle-hands are done.

Aaron seeks to steady his breathing as the latter retreat, his body shaking just a little at the loss of sensation.

“You’re planning on selling that thing?” He gestures in the direction of the Chair.

“That one’s a prototype, but yes,” Octavius spares him a glance, “Hence the need for tests. May and I have already established a successful range of sex toys for women, including a similar version of the chair.” She grins lopsidedly all of a sudden, “All of them tested thoroughly at home, of course. It’s bringing money in, but one can always use more: May has an expensive hobby involving an adopted nephew of hers, for a start. We're also trying to save up enough to move somewhere we can _both_ have a lab.”

Hence the new direction, Aaron supposes, given the way Octavius' previous form of employment didn’t work out, just like his. And he can sympathise about nephews, adopted or otherwise – Miles is always haring off on some new scheme. Often involving stickers of some sort, and even the cost of them adds up.

After this however, Aaron will be able to splash out on all the stickers his nephew likes.

“Not sure I need to know that much about your sex life,” He still has to complain, given his brain immediately attempts to imagine Octavius testing the Chair – or a ‘similar version’ of it.

Yeah, he’s still not into her. Not really. But even so – the thought of it, of maybe watching Octavius and her lady friend go at it –

_Jesus_, he really is sex-starved, isn’t he. Aaron’s never been one to get off at the thought of his colleagues – or ex-colleagues – doing it; quite the opposite, in fact. And actually, now he thinks of it, there’s a ‘May’ Miles talks about every so often, the lady with the baseball bat during that goddamned awful nightmare of a fight at the original Spiderman’s house, and –

“_Stop thinking_,” Octavius raps Aaron’s cock with her pen again – it seems quite possible she’s only holding it for this purpose, as he’s yet to see her write anything with it.

“_Ugh_, _fuck_ –” Aaron grunts, almost doubling over at the gut punch of arousal that strikes him even harder this time.

Fucking hell, he’s _so_ into all of this. Whether he wants to admit to it or not.

“Octavius –” Even he doesn’t know whether this is a plea or a complaint.

“Argh no, for god’s sake not ‘Octavius’; call me ‘Liv’,” Octavius groans dramatically, “You’re standing naked like _that_ in front of me –” She waves a tentacle-hand to indicate Aaron’s dripping cock, “And I’m about to use my incredible invention to fuck your scrawny ass. The least you can do is call me by my name.”

Is –

Is this an attempt on her part at _friendship_? Aaron’s too out of it with arousal to be able to tell.

Also he never imagined he’d hear Octavius – or Liv, apparently – say the phrase ‘fuck your scrawny ass’. Though, you know, he could do without the ‘scrawny’.

“Ugh, take that look of your face and go prepare yourself,” Liv shoves the giant bottle of lube in said face.

“Sure thing, Liv,” Smirking faintly, Aaron replies before he can think better of it, accepting the bottle and catching just a glimmer of pleased surprise on her face, before he escapes into the side room she indicates.

It turns out to be a broom closet full of cleaning supplies but, hey, at this point he’s not about to be picky. Not the most comfortable location for what he’s doing, or really enough room to achieve the best angle, but he gets the job done.

Even if it makes him sweat when the tips of his fingers just succeed in grazing his prostate.

“_Ah _– damn.”

“Are you finally finished or shall I come fetch you?” Liv calls from her lab, “Clock’s ticking, Davis –”

Yeah okay, if he’s calling her ‘Liv’, then she’s returning the favour.

“Aaron,” Aaron points out. He also limps back into her office, cock heavy enough with arousal that it’s affecting his gait despite his attempt to cover this up. 

Thankfully Liv barely spares him a look.

“Up you go on the chair then – Aaron,” she says only a little awkwardly, and gives him a small sort of smile-grimace that sits uncomfortably on her face for a moment before it’s gone.

It’s probably the most genuine smile she’s ever granted him, given her grin when talking about her partner doesn’t count.

“_Taking too long_,” Liv announces abruptly, when Aaron hesitates on glancing over at the Chair. Huffing in annoyance, she tugs her glasses off –

And tentacle-hands grab his shoulders and turn him around, sending him stumbling backwards towards the device.

“_Hey_ –_!_” Aaron has to fight to catch his balance.

“Need a hand?” Liv is right in front of him suddenly, her hand planting on his chest –

She pushes him onto the Chair.

“Ah –” It’s cold. That’s Aaron’s first impression as he thuds down onto it. It’s cold and, while it’s padded, it’s not entirely comfortable, especially the way the tentacle-hands grasp hold of his knees to drag his legs open wide, positioning his calves in the – the – His mind shies away from thinking of them as _stirrups_, but they are.

There are also restraints.

Aaron _knows_ Octavius – Liv – he _knew_ there would be restraints, but it still makes his breath catch when they appear out of hidden compartments, his arms and ankles suddenly bound into place. He pushes against them reflexively and groans at the complete and utter lack of give.

For all he endeavours to tell himself otherwise, it’s not a groan of complaint.

“Ready?” Liv’s holding something in her other hand, showing it to him – a remote.

_No, _Aaron half intends to say, even as almost all of him – body and mind – is thinking a very definite _Yes_.

“Got to keep up, Aaron,” Liv’s already shrugging, pressing a button, and something beeps. The Chair starts to tilt back, tipping Aaron up so he’s at more of an angle, exposing him even more than he already is.

“_Ahhh_ –” The moan bursts out of him irrepressibly at the mere fact of being so put on display, his dick bouncing against his stomach as it spasms. It’s a bit like being at the dentist, actually, leaning back like this –

Except for all the ways in which it really, _really_ isn’t.

“Hmmm,” Liv is still _right there_, looking down at him, her gaze assessing but – but also _distracted_, and Aaron is hard put to prevent another moan in the face of just how unmoved she is by all of his need. A tentacle-hand rises behind her, passing her a clipboard, and Liv produces her pen in order to point it at him.

Aaron doesn’t want her to flick his dick with it, no, not at all.

“Right you, listen up,” Liv has adopted something between her Head Scientist voice and the one she uses when making those documentary video things Miles sometimes has to take notes on for his homework. Liv herself is clearly planning on taking notes on this –

On his arousal, his responses, his reaction to her machine _as it fucks him_ –

“_Nnnn_ –” The noise Aaron makes at this is embarrassingly close to a whine.

“I’m going to be extremely displeased if you orgasm before the tests have even started,” Liv interrupts herself to frown down at Aaron’s cock. She presses her lips together, scrawling something on the clipboard, “I _was_ wondering about including some form of restraint for the user’s genitals – something to delay or prevent orgasm –”

She meanders off in her mind for a bit, while a tentacle-hand winds down to Aaron’s lap. Before he knows it, it’s grasping his dick, tugging it up and down a bit and applying pressure in different areas, as if Liv is imagining testing out theories about potential restraints.

The sheer shock of having the thing touch him so intimately – firm but without pain – is near enough to make Aaron yell.

“Oh, do calm yourself,” Liv rolls her eyes when she emerges enough from her thoughts to register how much he’s squirming, and the tentacle-hand lets go of Aaron’s cock to reach for a wad of tissues, “You're going to be giving my invention a thorough cleaning after the tests if you keep on like this.”

It’s true, Aaron’s dick is pumping out precome like there’s no tomorrow. Much more than it’s in the habit of usually doing in honesty, which is a little disturbing.

It's also extremely telling, but he's not thinking about that.

“Hah – can't help it,” As his hands aren’t going anywhere, Aaron gets to sit through a tentacle-hand giving the length of his shaft a cursory mop, making him hiss and writhe at the damned ticklish sensation, and then the rest of the tissues are used to swipe at the seat of the Chair between his spread thighs where he's leaked.

“It's fine; this is useful information. It's what the tests are for,” Liv steps away to poke at something on her computer, “I'll need to give the final product better waterproofing. May did warn me men could be messy.” Glancing over her shoulder at Aaron as if she’s just remembered him, she gives him a sudden smirk. “Let's avert any more need for mopping up, shall we.”

“_Gah_ –” A second press of the remote opens a compartment up beneath Aaron’s ass and he totally doesn’t yelp. That’s not a noise he makes.

“Hush now, I’ll need to concentrate,” Liv produces a foil-wrapped condom out of a drawer.

“Uh, or you could let me do it?” Aaron raises both eyebrows. A tentacle-hand winds around the base of his cock this time and he absolutely doesn’t yelp a second time as it holds his shaft steadily in place.

“No,” Liv says.

“Yeah, I thought as much.”

And so Aaron’s treated to a tortuously long couple of minutes while she uses two of the other tentacle-hands to navigate the little packet open and unroll it down onto his cock as it jumps incessantly in that implacable grip, his thighs and stomach jerking and twitching right along with it.

“That’s better,” Liv nods, “You can go ahead now and make as much mess in there as you want.”

“Hah – Hah –” _Will do. _Aaron isn’t quite up to replying verbally to this. The fourth tentacle-hand pats his arm once the condom’s finally rolled all the way onto his cock, and he almost thinks it’s in comfort for a moment or in acknowledgement of a job well done –

Because seriously, had that grip shifted _at all_ on his dick, he’d probably have been _gone_ –

And Liv must press a button or something, because the Chair abruptly judders and comes whirring to life.

“Oh fuck, oh shit, _oh fuck_ –” Despite Aaron’s quick preparation job earlier, the blunt nudge of _something_ between his ass cheeks still comes as a shock. It's thin at the tip and wider at the middle, and feels very real and solid and inevitable, and Aaron’s body automatically tries to clench down in rejection of it.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Liv instructs from over at the table. She’s digging out a travel-sized kettle, damn it, filling it with bottled water and plugging it in before dumping a spoonful of instant coffee in her mug, even as she keeps an eye on the readouts scrolling across the screen, presumably courtesy of those inbuilt sensors she mentioned.

Her lack of attention on Aaron frees him up to throw his head back as much as the Chair lets him, anyway, willing himself to relax and accept the intrusion as the thing works its way into his body, gritting his teeth to repress another whine.

“Hmm, it seems slower would be advantageous at this point,” Drumming her fingers on the table as she waits for the kettle to boil, Liv jabs a button on the remote, squints at the screen and then jabs the remote again. And things do indeed become –

Slower. And better. _Very_ much better, all at once, the pressure at Aaron’s rim dwindling to a rub and a tease.

“Ahhh –” The Chair also tips a few degrees further back without warning, and suddenly his body decides to give up its resistance, allowing the – the thing – his mind supplies '_cock'_ – to just slide in, with hardly any effort at all.

“_Ohhh_ –” The groan rumbles gutturally out of Aaron’s chest, filling the cramped little room. He’s grateful for the condom; he can feel his cock leaking again. He didn’t –

He didn’t expect this to feel good really, definitely not as good as this, but the long gradual slide of the artificial cock into him is so damn fucking incredible he’s practically _drooling_.

“Ready?” Liv repeats, and this time she looks at him and waits for his answer.

“Ready,” Grateful, Aaron gives it to her. He also summons up a grin, “Do your worst.”

“Oh, I don’t think you could possibly take anything even _close_ to that, honey,” Liv’s smirk is anything but reassuring.

She presses another button on the remote.

Everything gets very intense and focused and incredible after that. Aaron is distantly aware he’s practically shouting as the cock thrusts into him, gently at first and then with more fervour, fireworks going off in his ass from the location of his prostate. His fingers are scrabbling at the Chair, finding no purchase, limbs aching from pulling unconsciously at the restraints – there’ll be bruises on his wrists and ankles tomorrow. He wants – he _wants_ –

To get a hand free to touch his cock; to have one of those tentacle-hands to do it for him; for some anonymous person that isn’t Liv to come into the room and do it for him; for _Liv_ to do it for him even – because, damn it, the plunging of the cock against his prostate is _fucking amazing_ and _hellishly_ arousing, and he bloody damn fucking well wants to get off –

“Right, first test completed,” Liv announces from over at the computer, and everything –

Stops.

“Hah – hah – fuck – what –” Aaron’s utterly blindsided by the abrupt halt to the pounding the machine was putting his body through; by the loss of the orgasm he’d been so longingly chasing after. He flounders despite himself, too gone to try and hold back on it.

“Some measurements and a few adjustments,” Liv is there then, along with her tentacle-hands, equipment at the ready and a gleam in her eye, “How was that?” She’s busy tapping at the Chair, opening up little compartments Aaron didn’t know existed, tentacle-hands dipping in to fiddle with the technology within as if his fucking _desperate_ erection isn’t right there.

“Davis?” Liv – Liv _pokes_ his cock with her pen again, damn her, and this is a thing, isn’t it, she’s probably going to keep doing it, and _bloody hell_ how Aaron wants her to. “Aaron? Report? May kept complaining the prototype I made for us was over the top, but then I kept finding her riding it at all hours, and –”

“Too much information,” Groaning, Aaron gets out, trying to fumble up an adjective sufficient to stop Liv _talking_ and to get her to turn the machine on again, “It’s good, it’s – the machine. It’s – fucking great.”

“Hmph, only ‘great’?” Liv sniffs, clearly put out, and grabs hold of Aaron’s chin to peer in his eyes – he gets the feeling only about ten percent of her attention is on _him_, if even that much, and the rest of it all on his role within her experiment. Then one of her tentacle-hands is closing lightly around his aching cock, and she’s talking to herself about the extent of his _engorgement_ and _girth_ and things that are sort of awkward to hear considering who is saying it, but also _really _damn bloody arousing.

“Let’s see if we can do better,” Liv concludes after a minute of this and consulting the readouts, closing the compartments on the Chair and disappearing over to the computer again.

And Aaron is given no warning as she starts the Chair up again. And –

And fucking _hell_. Whatever adjustments she made to it are _on point_. Within minutes he’s got his eyes slammed shut, every muscle tense as his ass is fucking reamed and he’s loving it –

Until it all stops _again_.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck _fuck_ –” Aaron’s sweating, spitting frustration, body feeling like it wants to _die_ at the loss this time, but –

But fuck, but Liv’s _paying_ him for this. This is precisely what he signed up for – to test the machine. Not simply to get off, although hopefully that will happen before Aaron actually loses his mind.

“Temper, young man,” Liv chides, which is a bit rich – if anything, they’re probably around the same age. There’s amusement in her voice, which there often is when she’s succeeding in winding people up, but Aaron blinks sense back into his vision and realises she’s holding out an uncapped water bottle in his direction, a gesture of concern he didn’t expect at all.

It makes a hot wodge of gratitude burn in his chest. He can only be grateful she has no idea about it.

“Th-thanks,” Aaron’s voice sounds _wrecked_. He drinks gratefully – Liv doesn’t release him of course, but he tries not to think about just how pitiful a sight he must make, being _looked after_ like this.

Drops of water escape his mouth to trickle down his chin and splash onto his chest. His cock doesn’t flag during the interim at all. Aaron tries not to look down at it or at Liv as she prods and fiddles with the Chair again.

“Much more to do for the tests?” he asks just a little hoarsely when it seems like she’s done. Honestly unable to say what he hopes her answer will be.

“Hmm?” Liv gives him that absent, summoned-out-from-deep-Science-thoughts look he’s familiar with back from their time working together. “Oh, the readings I’m getting are good, but not good enough.” She frowns at his cock as if it’s at fault, “There probably needs to be a couple more trial runs. For this round.”

“For – this round,” Aaron doesn’t at all gulp.

“Yes, we’ll move onto other things such as testing out different types of attachments afterwards,” A tentacle-hand opening a drawer, Liv fishes out a neon coloured butt plug and waves it at him. Liv smirks at the look on his face, “For example, this one vibrates.”

“I-it does, huh?” Trapped in the Chair, Aaron’s whole body tingles at the very thought. He can’t help it; he simply has to ask, “And the others?”

Trying not to sound too eager. Even if he’s starting to wonder if he’ll have any ass left by the end of it.

He gets that smirk widening into a lopsided grin once again, “Oh no, you don’t get that information, Aaron. May suggested keeping it as a surprise for my test subject.” She points the plug at his cock, “I happen to think that thing agrees.”

“I, ah, yeah,” Aaron can’t deny it. His cock does agree. It really does.

It also would very, very much like to come. It’s all he can really think about despite everything else as Liv makes another adjustment and then starts up the machine a second time.

She does let him orgasm eventually, his dick spilling into the condom untouched. Not yet, though.

Not for a long time.

When it’s all over, Aaron has to remain in the Chair, wheezing for breath, his legs shaking enough he’s literally unable to stand. His balls feel like they’re never going to be full again, he’s come and come and come so much.

He might need Liv to attach wheels to the Chair and push him back to his apartment, although he suspects she’d be far more likely to dump him outside here in the street.

“That was fucking – fucking – fucking _fantastic_. You got me on board, lady. Sell me this thing,” is his panted conclusion when Liv absently hands him coffee in a chipped cup she's unearthed from somewhere and asks his opinion on her invention, tentacle-hands making adjustments to the Chair all the while. Aaron was planning to invest as much of his earnings for this sensibly after sorting out rent and everything (and spoiling the hell out of Miles), but fuck that plan. Who wants to be sensible?

Though the spoiling the hell out of Miles thing remains a given, of course.

“You can wait until the finalised version is on the market, just like everybody else,” Liv answers immediately, but then she looks at him and the corner of her mouth turns up. It’s that genuine little smile again. “But I’ll give you a discount.”

By the time Aaron’s finally dressed and up to leaving on his jelly legs, he’s arranged a contract with Liv to be the prime tester for the entire range of toys for men she’s got in the pipeline. He’s also only somewhat awkwardly arranged to meet her and her lady out somewhere for a coffee sometime, strictly _not_ to chat about their new business partnership.

Knowing the limited amount of other conversation topics they have available to them, it’s probably inevitable that Aaron will end up chatting about the brightest spark and biggest pain in the ass in his life (he might be kidding about one of these things) – which is, of course, a certain nephew called Miles. As May’s got that adopted nephew thing going on herself, hopefully she’ll forgive him, even if it bores the shit out of Liv.

It’s good to have a friend – and the potential for two – plus a form of employment for the foreseeable future again. That said employment involves helping out said friend and promises to involve more earth-shaking orgasms is an awesome bonus.

Honestly, Aaron can’t wait.


End file.
